Rose in the Wind
by Helen Cly
Summary: Isabel deals with her soltitude after Grant's death. Episode tag to "How the Other Half Lives."
1. Default Chapter

**Title:** A Rose in the Wind  
**Author:** Sobia Helen  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. The song 'A Rose in the Wind" is my Anggun.  
**Category:** Michael/Isabel-ish  
**Rating:** U, PG  
**Distribution:** Want. Take. Have. Just, ask first: [AphroditeH@aol.com][1]  
**Summary:** Episode tag to "How the Other Half Lives."  
**Dedications:** To Minnie, for beta-ing it in the middle of the night. If you find any errors, blame her! *points finger* LoL.   
**Note:** This is an Isabel POV.   


* * *

_What to do with this love that I'm in?  
I have given you all of my soul  
Flying all my life like a rose in the wind  
Tell me why I am always alone _  
  
~*~  
  
It was all my fault. Again. Lately, I seemed to have an uncanny ability to send people to untimely demises. There had been Whitaker, then Courtney. I almost killed Brody. And now Grant.   
  
I walked to where he was, my eyes focused on the blue crystals. I repressed a bizarre urge to touch them and covered them up with a measly looking blanket. "Oh God, I'm so sorry," I whispered to Grant, knowing that he was beyond responding, or even hearing.   
  
Finally, I sank down to the floor. "I'm just gonna sit here for a while, okay?" I glanced at him shortly. "Just gonna sit here, so you are not...alone." I hesitated before saying the last word.  
  
I wanted to laugh at the irony of that last statement. I wanted to cry for _I _ was alone. Not Grant; he was past caring.  
  
I sat there for what seemed like lifetimes, until I heard an ambiguous sound. I looked out the door to notice that the sun had gone down. I stood up slowly and walked out the door, following the sound of voices.  
  
Michael. I recognized the voice and felt a smile tugging on my lips. The alone feeling lessened a bit as I quickened my pace; I wanted to tell him about Grant, knowing that he would make me feel better. He always did.  
  
I halted in my steps as I saw Maria there, planting kisses on Michael's face. "My...brave...handsome...hero," she said, emphasizing each word with a kiss.  
  
I felt like I was being stabbed in the heart with each expression.   
  
"Wounded hero," Michael corrected her.  
  
*Wounded?* I thought, any feelings of jealousy gone. There was only concern left.   
  
"I gotta get back to Roswell, let Maxwell work on the shoulder," he continued. He wanted _Max_ to heal him. That made sense; I doubted that I would be able to heal anything bigger than a bruise or a scratch. All I could do was comfort him, and Maria seemed to be doing a great job with that.  
  
"Alright. Whenever you are ready, Spaceboy." She said, rubbing his arm.  
  
Compared to this sight my problems over Grant seemed small.   
  
When we had been eight, right after Michael had moved in with Hank, he had made himself a little tree house in a tree near Hank's trailer. He used to climb up that tree and hide there when things got bad. It was his sanctuary, and I was the only who knew about it. He used to throw down his ladder whenever I would visit him. The house was small, I never could figure out how he always managed to make room in it for me.  
  
He had hid up in that house when Hank had hit him for the first time; he had struck Michael with a belt. I had healed him then, crying all the while. He never told me about Hank giving him a hard time afterwards, and I believed that it was a one-time thing. I didn't realize that Hank beat him regularly until that day Max had told me.  
  
It was then that I had realized that Michael didn't want to burden me with his problems. He didn't want me crying for him, sharing his pain.  
  
And now, looking at him with Maria, I wanted to do the same for him. He seemed happy with her, and I didn't want to bother him with my petty problems. I could deal with them alone. I always did.  
  
I backed away, ready to leave, as Maria kissed Michael. Michael hesitated a second before awkwardly placing his arms around Maria.  
  
That was Michael. Always afraid that people were going to stop loving him, or reject his affection.   
  
He was still the same boy that I had fallen in love with. Except now, it was Maria that he wanted in his tree house. Not me. There was no room for me there anymore. So I walked away, alone.  
  
  
~End~  


[Let me know what you thought...][2]

   [1]: mailto:AphroditeH@aol.com
   [2]: mailto:aphroditeh@aol.com



	2. Default Chapter

**Title:** A Rose in the Wind  
**Author:** Sobia Helen  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. The song 'A Rose in the Wind" is my Anggun.  
**Category:** Michael/Isabel-ish  
**Rating:** U, PG  
**Distribution:** Want. Take. Have. Just, ask first: [AphroditeH@aol.com][1]  
**Summary:** Episode tag to "How the Other Half Lives."  
**Dedications:** To Minnie, for beta-ing it in the middle of the night. If you find any errors, blame her! *points finger* LoL.   
**Note:** This is an Isabel POV.   


* * *

_What to do with this love that I'm in?  
I have given you all of my soul  
Flying all my life like a rose in the wind  
Tell me why I am always alone _  
  
~*~  
  
It was all my fault. Again. Lately, I seemed to have an uncanny ability to send people to untimely demises. There had been Whitaker, then Courtney. I almost killed Brody. And now Grant.   
  
I walked to where he was, my eyes focused on the blue crystals. I repressed a bizarre urge to touch them and covered them up with a measly looking blanket. "Oh God, I'm so sorry," I whispered to Grant, knowing that he was beyond responding, or even hearing.   
  
Finally, I sank down to the floor. "I'm just gonna sit here for a while, okay?" I glanced at him shortly. "Just gonna sit here, so you are not...alone." I hesitated before saying the last word.  
  
I wanted to laugh at the irony of that last statement. I wanted to cry for _I _ was alone. Not Grant; he was past caring.  
  
I sat there for what seemed like lifetimes, until I heard an ambiguous sound. I looked out the door to notice that the sun had gone down. I stood up slowly and walked out the door, following the sound of voices.  
  
Michael. I recognized the voice and felt a smile tugging on my lips. The alone feeling lessened a bit as I quickened my pace; I wanted to tell him about Grant, knowing that he would make me feel better. He always did.  
  
I halted in my steps as I saw Maria there, planting kisses on Michael's face. "My...brave...handsome...hero," she said, emphasizing each word with a kiss.  
  
I felt like I was being stabbed in the heart with each expression.   
  
"Wounded hero," Michael corrected her.  
  
*Wounded?* I thought, any feelings of jealousy gone. There was only concern left.   
  
"I gotta get back to Roswell, let Maxwell work on the shoulder," he continued. He wanted _Max_ to heal him. That made sense; I doubted that I would be able to heal anything bigger than a bruise or a scratch. All I could do was comfort him, and Maria seemed to be doing a great job with that.  
  
"Alright. Whenever you are ready, Spaceboy." She said, rubbing his arm.  
  
Compared to this sight my problems over Grant seemed small.   
  
When we had been eight, right after Michael had moved in with Hank, he had made himself a little tree house in a tree near Hank's trailer. He used to climb up that tree and hide there when things got bad. It was his sanctuary, and I was the only who knew about it. He used to throw down his ladder whenever I would visit him. The house was small, I never could figure out how he always managed to make room in it for me.  
  
He had hid up in that house when Hank had hit him for the first time; he had struck Michael with a belt. I had healed him then, crying all the while. He never told me about Hank giving him a hard time afterwards, and I believed that it was a one-time thing. I didn't realize that Hank beat him regularly until that day Max had told me.  
  
It was then that I had realized that Michael didn't want to burden me with his problems. He didn't want me crying for him, sharing his pain.  
  
And now, looking at him with Maria, I wanted to do the same for him. He seemed happy with her, and I didn't want to bother him with my petty problems. I could deal with them alone. I always did.  
  
I backed away, ready to leave, as Maria kissed Michael. Michael hesitated a second before awkwardly placing his arms around Maria.  
  
That was Michael. Always afraid that people were going to stop loving him, or reject his affection.   
  
He was still the same boy that I had fallen in love with. Except now, it was Maria that he wanted in his tree house. Not me. There was no room for me there anymore. So I walked away, alone.  
  
  
~End~  


[Let me know what you thought...][2]

   [1]: mailto:AphroditeH@aol.com
   [2]: mailto:aphroditeh@aol.com



End file.
